


A Little Death

by pterosounds



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: BDSM, Bloodplay, Breathplay, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, F/F, Light Bondage, Phone Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Skype Sex, Strap-Ons, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-08-14 02:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7994698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterosounds/pseuds/pterosounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Compilation of Hollstein smut requests wherein my tumblr followers did not pull any stops in the kink department.<br/>(Title from The Neighbourhood song of the same name)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Deaf!Carm + Strapons

**Author's Note:**

> hoo boy howdy here we go.  
> first prompt(s): another deaf!carm smut scene, as well as a request for for a strap-on.

‘I’m pretty sure six-month anniversaries are reserved for middle schoolers.’ Carmilla signs as she opens her door. You’re standing in front of her with a box in your hands and a coy smile on your lips.

“Are you saying you don’t want what’s in here?” You say aloud, considering your hands are full. She rolls her eyes before turning around, so you follow her into her room and sit on the bed.

Now that you’re in her room, the contents of her present suddenly seem a bit daunting. What if she doesn’t like it? She had brought it up only once before, and your brain had chosen to hyperfocus on it. Your fingers drum on the top of the box.

‘You’re lucky I like you, because otherwise this would be in the trash.’ She motions before she presses a kiss to your cheek. She grabs the present from your lap and sits next to you, your thighs touching. She gives the box a shake and raises an eyebrow at you, and you give her a bit of a nervous smile.

With a grand swoop, she lifts the top off. Her eyebrows shoot up immediately and her jaw drops slightly.

‘Well…?’ you let the sign linger, your heart skipping slightly as you await a reaction.

Her eyes flit up to meet yours, and dread starts to bubble up in your chest until you see the smirk twitch at the corner of her mouth.

‘Would you like me to  _ give _ you your present now?’ You emphasise the sign for give and pray that she catches your drift. Of course, she is more filthy minded than you are so of course she does. In a split second, she leans in for a searing kiss before pulling away and hastily signing.

‘I’m assuming you’re wearing it.’

You give her a curt nod and pull the harness out of the box (which Carmilla unceremoniously nudges onto the floor.)

‘Is there even a sign for this?’ You ask, and she laughs softly as she scratches the back of her head, pondering the question.

‘I don’t believe there is. We could just call it a-’ She taps her first two knuckles together and then pulls apart with ‘y’s. You know the first sign is ‘sex’ but you aren’t sure what the second one is, and you voice your confusion, so she finger-spells T-O-Y.

‘ASL is so weird.’ You laugh and then repeat the sign to her, and she gives you a nod of approval.

The semantics of language lead to you almost forgetting about the object in question sitting in your lap.

Almost.

‘How about we start the actual gift giving?’ Carmilla gestures as she leans in slightly. You clear the distance and press a languid kiss to her lips. One of your hands cups the back of her head, the other rests on her hip, and the two of you shift closer to one another. 

You feel her hands trail up your back, lifting your shirt with them, and you you break the kiss.

‘Let’s just… get all of the clothes off right now. No stopping for kissing and getting distracted.’ You sign quickly. It’s marvelous that you’ve managed to learn how to ramble in a language that doesn’t involve speaking…

Carmilla signs back her agreement and the two of you waste no more time in undressing. Normally you consider the buildup, teasing, and foreplay that goes into undressing one another an integral part, but right now you’re trying to not let your nerves get the best of you as you kneel on Carmilla’s mattress, the strapon in hand.

You take a deep breath and lock eyes with your girlfriend, whose smile hasn’t left her since she opened the present. It’s become evident in the times you have slept together that a part of Carmilla loves when you take charge and more or less take what you want. You aren’t sure, however, if she knows that you’re still a bumbling mess of nerves no matter how well you manage to mask it. And this is an unprecedented step; you’ve never done  _ this _ before, and you aren’t sure if your usual bravado is going to be enough to keep you from messing something up or being awkward.

As if reading your mind, she takes your face in her hands and something about the look in her eyes tells you that it’s going to be okay. That you’re going to do alright. That she’s grateful to be where she is right now and ever so awed by how much she loves you. How you manage to assume all of that from a meaningful glance is beyond you, but it’s moments like this that make you wonder if soulmates really do exist outside of fiction.

To keep yourself from getting too overcome with emotion, you kiss her. Your hands are still shaking slightly as you undo the buckles on the harness, but the warmth in her kiss calms you, and you finally manage to slip into it.

You tighten the straps, and Carmilla pulls back to presumably take in the sight of you in her present. She wets her lips with a swipe of her tongue and gives her head a small shake. The rapt hunger in her eyes turns you on impossibly more than you already are and is enough to dash away another layer of your reservations.

With a deep breath to steady yourself, you shift towards her once again and pushing her down on her back. You feel the piece between you shift as it presses against her. The sensation is different, but a good different. You need more pressure for it to feel really  _ good _ , but even just this small action seems to have an effect on Carmilla. She hums and kisses you, her hands sliding down to the curve of your waist and pulling you closer.

You’re fairly certain the point is for the piece to go inside of her, but she seems to be enjoying the teasing of grinding it between the two of you. To be honest, it  _ is _ sending more of those different feelings through you that you can only contribute to the bite of leather into tender skin, as well as the base of the piece vaguely rubbing against your clit with each slight movement.

The kiss breaks with a shuddering gasp from both of you, and Carmilla reaches between you to wrap her fingers around the shaft of the toy. She gives it a gentle tug, making your breath hitch slightly. There’s so much you want to say but Carmilla’s mouth has moved to your neck, and your hands are tangled in her hair, and honestly you’ve gotten this far without having to utter a single word.

You look down to see her slowly guiding the tip of the piece between her legs, and you stop breathing altogether as you push your hips forward to help her. You feel her body tense against yours, and your eyes shoot up to meet hers. Her eyes are closed, however, and her head is tilted back slightly with her bottom lip drawn between her teeth. A smile pulls at the corners of your mouth, and you press a soft kiss to her jaw as you ever so slowly push your hips further until you feel them flush with hers.

She lets out a breathy gasp and grips the backs of your thighs before letting out a quiet, needy sound that you interpret as her asking you to do something.

You roll your hips back a bit before pushing back in, and while the sensation is faint for you, Carmilla hums again. So you repeat the motion, this time pulling out a bit more and thrusting a bit harder. She bucks her hips up in time with yours, and that time you felt something.

The movement is different than what you’re used to, but you soon get the hang of exactly how you need to gyrate your hips to get the piece to hit Carmilla in the spot your fingers know how to find with ease. Carmilla is a panting, moaning mess underneath you, and you’re loving every moment of it. Her nails dig into your thighs as you pick up your pace, and you bow your head to her neck to run open-mouthed kisses along her skin. You leave a few love bites for good measure and relish the feeling of her throat vibrating with each of her suppressed moans.

She’s so self conscious about her volume and you wish she wasn’t. But at the same time, you don’t want any noise complaints to interrupt what you have going on, so you take what victories you can.

You feel a thin sheen of sweat build on the small of your back as you push a bit harder, and you ignore the way your muscles start to protest because Carmilla’s breathing is reaching the point that you’ve recognized as her trying to hold back obscene noises as she gets closer to climax.

Trying your best to not break the rhythm you’ve managed to set, you run you fingers back through her hair and get her to look at you so you can mouth the words ‘come for me, Carmilla.’

She gives you a lazy grin for a split second before she captures your lips in hers. Her breathless moans get shorter and high pitched as you slam your hips into hers once more, twice more, and on the third time her back arches up and she can’t hold her final groan back. And you don’t bother to cover her mouth because a tiny primal part of you has awoken in this moment and wants to hear her.

You’re pretty sure the next few rooms over hear her.

You slow the rolling of your hips as her moan fades off into a few content hums. She wraps her arms around you and hugs you closer, and you can feel her thumb start to rub letters on your back.

‘stay like this’

You laugh softly and kiss her neck and whisper an ok back to her.

After she settles down she mentions that maybe adding something on your end will help you feel it all a bit more, and that she has just the thing in her bedside table.

Round 2 she manages to not wake the entire building, and the two of you come together before passing out, limbs tangled together and peaceful smiles on your lips.


	2. Exhibitionism + Voyeurism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was basic exhib/voyeur, and I added my own personal fantasy.  
> Laura and Carm are neighbors. Laura's POV.

Two windows facing one another is supposed to be ample fodder for a love story, wherein you catch glimpses of one another’s lives and fall in love based on those small snippets. The rational part of your brain knows this is ridiculous and an unhealthy thing to build a relationship on, but the rest of you is a storybook romantic.

Plus, your neighbor is hot.

Your houses must be mirror opposites, because your bedroom with an ensuite bathroom matches up with hers. Of course, the way she has arranged her furniture is different. Your desk faces the back of your house but it’s against the wall the window is on, meaning that if you draw your blinds up you can see into her room from your rolling chair.

It’s an overcast afternoon, and you have your curtains drawn back so you can work on an essay when movement from your neighbor’s window catches your attention.

Her curtains are pulled aside as well, and you watch her emerge from her bathroom, curly black hair dripping wet. A black towel is loosely wrapped around her body, and your jaw drops just slightly at the sight.

Guilt runs cold through your chest and you sharply turn your head back to your laptop. You’ve never seen her change before, much less be completely naked. Sometimes she actually closes her curtains. And it’s not like she doesn’t know you’re there or that you can’t see her through the glass. You’ve waved and smiled at one another before, albeit  _ you  _ smiled at her and  _ she  _ gave you an odd look in return.

Yet here you are, wide-eyed and sweating as you try to look at anywhere but the window. Your gay curiosity gets the best of you, though, and you chance a swift look over to her again.

Her back is to you now, and she’s ruffling the towel over her hair to dry it. You can clearly see the curve of her ass, considering her skin is pale and her room is full of dark furniture, and you swallow thickly.

She saunters over to her bed, the side of which faces your window, and turns to sit on it so her profile is facing you. Your breath catches in your throat.

This is wrong, and you know it, but you can’t look away. Something akin to not being able to tear your gaze away from a terrible car crash has overcome you.

In your daze of suddenly hyperfocusing on the faint pink of her nipples, you miss her tossing the towel aside somewhere and lounging back on her pillows. Her legs part, and you lightly cover your mouth with the tips of your fingers in shock and awe. 

Nothing even remotely close to this has ever happened before, and you want so desperately to not be so intrigued by it. But then she slides one of her hands down her stomach and between her legs, and everything on your end stops.

Your heart. Your brain. Your breath. Time itself. All of it stalls out, making the practically violent and vaguely unwanted rush of heat that rushes through you even more poignant.

Her movements start out slow, her hand making small circles and her hips joining the motion.

There’s so much going on, your eyes flit from one end of her to the other. You watch her lips part as she tilts her head back. Her free hand cups and kneads her breast. One of her knees hitches up and she rolls her body over so most of her is bared to you. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is parted and her chest is moving quickly with the motions of heightened breathing. 

Of course, you can’t hear anything, but you can almost perfectly imagine what the panting sounds like on her end as you hungrily watch her fingers make circles between her legs.

You feel another pulse of heat in your center and your gut, and you clench your fists over the arms of your chair.

You wish you knew her name, and you wish you knew her name. In your perverted fantasy she is moaning ‘ _ Laura.’ _

However, chances are that a woman that beautiful has a boyfriend - or girlfriend - and would be moaning their name. Though, you would be kind of more okay with this hypothetical partner if they were a girlfriend…

You shake your head, closing your eyes for the first time since she walked out of her bathroom, and run both of your hands back through your hair. When you open your eyes again, you jolt.

Her eyes are open, too. And locked with yours. And she hasn’t stopped touching herself.

Your hands still on your head and fingers pulling at your hair, your jaw falls open completely. You’re sure you look like a gawking idiot, but that’s what you are and she has caught you in the act of peeping and has every right to think of you as a gawking idiot.

But she  _ still hasn’t stopped,  _ and your heart is racing at a million miles an hour as her eyes hood slightly. She picks up her pace and you wish for nothing but the sweet release of death as wetness pools in your underwear. 

Why is she doing this? Why is she letting you watch? Has she known you were here the whole time? The mischievous smirk playing on her lips makes you think so.

Your whole body is tense and on the edge, and you don’t know what your reaction would be if your father were to so much as knock on your (which he never does.) You have a feeling it would be violent and extremely suspect, and probably involve you all but tearing your curtains off of the wall in an attempt to close them.

But he isn’t knocking, and this gorgeous girl seems to be putting on a show for you, her captive audience of one.

Her eyes squeeze shut once again, and you think you see her sigh the word “fuck.” Her hips buck up into her hand and it dawns on you that you’re going to see her come.

And you don’t even know her name.

Her hand that’s not frantically moving between her legs runs through and tugs at her hair as her jaw slacks and her back arches up off the bed.

Her movements still, save from a few small twitches as she slowly settles back down on her mattress. She makes eye contact as she lifts her fingers up to her mouth and slowly licks them clean, and you swear you almost pass out.

“Your turn.” she mouths and nods to you with her ever-present smirk.

Taken aback, you point to yourself in confusion. Does she want you to…?

With a shrug she gets off of her bed and reaches for her curtains, and something inside of you panics. You wave your arms to get her to stop, and once you’re sure you have her attention once more, you scamper to your door to lock it.

Once you’re back in your desk chair,you swivel it so you face her. You hesitantly pull your shirt off over your head, and when you vision is no longer impaired by the garment, you see she’s back on her bed, this time leaning on one arm and obviously watching you.

With a sheepish smile, you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, but of course you fumble and struggle, and you blush furiously as you see her still naked chest shake slightly with laughter. Finally winning the battle against your bra, you let it fall away. You turn your head to the side, too anxious to look at her directly, and watch her reaction the best you can through your peripheral.

Taking in a deep, steadying breath, you slide one hand down your stomach. The need to see her face again wins over your self-consciousness, and your pride is bolstered when you realize she’s giving you the same hungry look you were probably giving her.

With this newfound confidence, you unbutton your pants and slide your hand under the waistband of your underwear.

You mentally curse yourself for getting so wet without anyone even physically touching you, but you’re not going to complain about how easy and good it feels to let your fingers brush over your swollen clit. You can’t help but let out a sigh at the contact, and you allow yourself a few solid rubs before remembering that your neighbor might want a show, too.

Not quite brazen enough to completely strip down, you wiggle out of your pants but leave your boyshorts on. You hope she understands, and the fact that her sly but pleased grin hasn’t left her lips tells you that maybe she does.

Shifting in the chair as to fix your angle, you tease your entrance a bit and giggle under your breath at the sensation. Slowly, you slip your middle finger in and watch for your neighbor’s response.

Her shoulders rise and fall with what must be a large sigh, or maybe a calming breath similar to your own. But then she surprises you again by starting to touch herself once more.

And that’s all you need to shake away your reservations. You’re both into this, whatever  _ this _ is, and there is no more reason for you to be nervous.

Your eyes scan her body as you alternate between slow pushes inside of yourself and small circles around your clit, and your body burns with desire as you watch her do the same.

Spreading your legs a bit more, you slide two fingers into your center and curl them, hitting your sweet spot with embarrassing precision. Biting the back of your hand helps squelch the moan that almost escapes you. You desperately try to keep your eyes open and on your neighbor instead of squeezing them shut and rolling your head back with pleasure. You want to watch her come again, and you want her to see you do it, too.

Your hand pumps in and out of you now at a quicker pace, and you see your neighbor laugh softly as she bumps up her tempo to match yours.

You focus on the image of her slender fingers disappearing and reemerging from her folds as the searing, coiling sensation inside of you builds. A whimper escapes you as you feel yourself begin the rise to the edge, and you plead with your eyes that she understands.

All she needs to do is nod once, and you’re gone.

Your orgasm ripples through and consumes you like wildfire, and every expletive you know threatens to bubble from your lips as you’re hit with wave after wave of pleasure.

Vaguely aware of the girl nextdoor, you attempt to zone in on her through the fog of ecstasy. In the nick of time, your eyes focus on her face as her features twist in pleasure, and you laugh to yourself as you realize what you’ve just done.

Without thinking, you grab a pen and your notebook and write “i need your #” before pressing it against the window. She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling, and within a few seconds she has a paper with a phone number against her glass.

Sex in person ends up being inconceivably better.


	3. Praise Kink + Petplay + Breathplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a friend asked for praise kink, i wanted to write petplay, and it ended up having breathplay too. what a good way to come off of a writing hiatus.  
> context for this one is however you want to interpret it; human semi-domestic au, or post s3 domestic. all that is important is that they live together and they are in love.

It slips out of you on accident the first time. Carmilla can just be so obstinate sometimes and you get frustrated easily. Though that’s probably why she likes teasing you until you’re incoherent. Until you get needy and breathless and desperate and you can feel her hot breath between your legs and you’re about to pant out a whiny “please.”

The shock of her warm tongue between your folds sends shudders up and down your spine and you can’t help yourself as you whisper “Good girl.”

You aren’t sure why those were the first words to come to mind, but they’re out in the open and you feel Carmilla tense up. She pulls away and you curse yourself for messing something up. You open your mouth to apologize, but she looks up at you with a smirk.

“What was that, dear?” She murmurs to you, her hands running up and down your thighs.

“I-” Your voice cracks, so you lick your lips, clear your throat and start over. “I called you a good girl. Because you’re doing what I want?” You get higher in pitch towards the end, suddenly treading unfamiliar waters.

Carmilla’s eyes are sparkling as she draws her bottom lip between her teeth. “Glad to be of service.” Without warning or prelude, she bows her head once more and doesn’t pull away until you come. She levels her face with yours and kisses you slowly, pointedly making you taste yourself on her tongue.

As you’re eating breakfast the next morning, you ask her about what you said. She merely shrugs. “Probably latent psychological problems rooted in the fact that I never felt good enough and was never praised by my mother. Or anyone else for that matter.”

Carmilla says it so matter-of-factly that it makes your heart ache, so you give her a tight hug and try to make sure she understands that she is more than good enough for you. She must get the point, because she returns the hug with equal fervor.

“So if I congratulated you every time you actually did your chores around the house, would you get all… excited?” You tease her.

She scoffs and tries to wriggle out of the hug. “I am not doing the dishes, even if you rewarded me with sex.” You tighten your grip on her and start to laugh as it becomes more and more obvious that she’s completely incapable of escaping.

“What about the other way around? What if I called you a naughty _naughty_ girl.”

You both burst out in laughter, and you swear you see tears start to well up in the corners of Carmilla’s eyes with how much she’s laughing.

“Why am I in love with you?” She gives one more push against your hug, and you finally relent and let her go. Wiping at her face, she glances at the sink of dirty dishes, and then back at you.

Your heartbeat picks up a bit, and you weigh your options. If it doesn’t work and ends up awkward, you can laugh about it again. If it works, you get sex. Win win.

So you take a deep breath and cross your arms, putting on your best serious face.

“Well, go on. Be a good girl and clean up.” You nod towards the sink.

You can tell she’s fighting back a smile because she looks up at the ceiling and bites the corner of her lip, and you can barely hold back another round of laughter yourself.

When she finally makes eye contact with you again, her composure has returned. “Will I get rewarded for all of my hard work?”

You swallow down a snicker, but the look in her eyes sends a heat to your gut. In that moment, you realize she’s genuinely playing along and that any break of face on your part will end this scene.

“Oh, most definitely. Now get to work.” In a mix of anxiety and adrenaline, you give her a clap on the ass as you strut past her.

Later, you’re knuckle deep and she’s on the edge and you hear her whisper “say it.”

So you do. You tell her she’s a good girl, and you say it again after her orgasm subsides and she rides the last waves of ecstasy on the palm of your hand.

 

\---

 

Further discussion ends up revealing a bit more about this specific facet of your girlfriend, and you tell her you’re more than open to try and play with it.

One day, the two of you are getting ready to go out, and she puts on a choker with a small jewel pendant on it, and you can’t help but see it as a collar.

You point out this observation when you get back home that evening and tug on it to pull her closer to you.

Carmilla wants to go shopping for one in person, but you’re not quite ready to be even remotely semi-public about anything that you have discussed with her. She insists a sex shop isn’t considered “the public,” but in the end respects your request to buy a collar online.

It’s studded black leather with a customizable heart-shaped tag.

“Okay, but what should it say?” You ask her as you both huddle around your laptop.

“It looks like a fucking cat collar, Laura. Can’t we please go see if there’s anything else?”

“You liked this design five minutes ago! You just want to drag me to a porn shop and corrupt me further.”

“Corrupt?” Carmilla snorts, taken aback. “Sure, Hollis. I am the sole reason you’re like this. Definitely not all of that smutty fanfiction I catch you reading on your phone at night.”

Your jaw drops open, but she has you there, and you’re not sure how to come back from that.

“What about… I don’t know…” She rests her head on your shoulder and reaches a hand up to play with the ends of your hair. “I can’t see anything but a cat collar.”

Your fingers hover over the keys on your keyboard as the cursor on your screen blinks in the “your name here” text box.

Slowly, you type out “Kitten” but Carmilla shakes her head. You backspace a bit and retype “Kitty” and wait for a response but one doesn’t come.

You bounce your shoulder, wondering if she closed her eyes or fell asleep.

“Do you want it to just say Carmilla or are you going to be a child about this?”

“I like that.” She says back quietly, and you don’t fight her on it.

You type in your mailing address, hit buy, and then the two of you are off to bed.

The doorbell rings a five days later and you both race to the door, knowing it’s your package and not any unwanted visitors.

“Come on it’s technically mine, I should get to open it!” Carmilla playfully whines as she tries to grab it out of your hands. You sigh and relent, handing her the box. She gets some scissors from the kitchen and slices through the tape before reaching in and pulling out the collar. She examines it in her hands carefully, rubbing her thumbs over the metal studs, the buckle, and finally over the tag. She turns it over in her fingers, and a small smirk plays on her lips.

“Wanna put it on me?” Carmilla asks. You nod and take the collar from her and motion for her to turn around. You beg your shaking hands to steady themselves as you pull the leather flush against the skin of Carmilla’s neck and tuck the loose end of the collar through the buckle.

“Is this too tight or…?” You ask Carmilla, who you’ve noticed has gone completely rigid. “You alri-”

“It’s perfect.” She whispers. Carmilla turns to face you, and you laugh softly at the small jingle of the tag. “How do I look?”

All she’s wearing is a half-buttoned up flannel, underwear, and the collar. Honestly, it’s made its way to the top of your “Five best outfits you’ve ever seen Carmilla Karnstein in” list.

You pick up the box to throw it away, but notice there’s still weight to it. Confused, you look inside and see a long strand of leather.

Or rather, a long leather leash.

“Oh?” Carmilla raises an eyebrow as she takes it out. “This is the full kit.”

“You missed out on a cat pun there, which is disappointing coming from someone in a collar.”

Carmilla narrows her eyes at your smug smile. “We both know puns are _your_ department.”

“De-paw-tment.” You mutter under your breath as you take the now-empty box and put it in the trash.

When you turn back around, Carmilla has clipped the leash on and is giving it an experimental tug. “We’re actually following through with this, huh?” You laugh nervously.

“I was hoping you could _lead_ the way.” She bounces her eyebrows, and your laugh turns comfortable.

“Can I?” You hold out your hand and she places the leash in your open palm. Your fingers wrap around the leather and you give it a hard yank, pulling her towards you. Carmilla lets out a surprised squeak that you know she’ll deny making if you ever bring it up, and you lean in for a kiss. “What’s the safeword?” You mumble into her lips.

“Laura we don-”

You pull back slightly and look her in the eyes. “Be a good girl and tell me the safe word.”

Carmilla looks like she’s about to protest, but you can tell you’ve won. “Silas.”

“Thank you.” You give her a curt nod and walk towards your bedroom.

You feel a bit silly at first, but when you glance behind you, you see that she’s looking at you with both amusement and adoration in her eyes, and that’s the only confidence booster you need. “C’mon.” You give her a solid tug as you approach the bed. “Sit.”

Perhaps this is taking it too far? Nothing on Carmilla’s face shows that she’s uncomfortable, so you keep going, drawing inspiration from a fic you read the other night.

“Open your mouth.” You demand, and she does so. After placing the leash in her mouth like a gag, you tell her to bite down. “And don’t let go unless I say so.”

She nods, and you can tell she’s trying to predict your next movement. So maybe she suspects what you’re reaching for when you open the drawer of your bedside table. There aren’t that many things in there anyways.

You toss the toy onto the bed next to her, and she stares at it until you tell her to focus her eyes on you. She sits herself up on her elbows at watches you as you slowly pull your sleepshirt off over your head, leaving yourself naked. Her bite on the leash slackens and it threatens to drop from her mouth, but she realizes her mistake as soon as you do and she’s quick to bite back down.

“That’s my girl. You almost slipped up there.” You slowly approach the bed and straddle her waist. Carmilla’s hands don’t hesitate to find their way to your hips. Her thumbs rub small circles into the skin there as you take your time admiring the way the collar looks on her. The tag glints faintly in the daylight that filters through the curtains, and you grin as you read the word “Kitty” engraved on it in a curly script font.

“Let’s get this shirt off of you.” Your hips start to subtly grind into hers as you undo the few buttons on her flannel that she had hastily done up when the two of you had heard the doorbell. The shirt falls off of her shoulders and she swiftly tosses it beside the bed before looking into your eyes with a salacious spark in hers.

Grabbing the leash by the base connected to the collar, you tell Carmilla to let go. The slack end of the leather falls between you two and you tug her closer.

“When are we gonna use that?” She nods to the strap-on beside her.

“Once you’ve proven you deserve it.”

Carmilla takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “And how _ever_ can I do that?” Her tone is playful, and you’re so thankful Carmilla is who she is. You aren’t sure you would have ever tried something like this with any other partner.

“For starters,” You get off of her lap and lay down with your head on the pillows. You give the leash a few tugs, and she rolls her eyes before moving closer to you. Wrapping the slack of the leash around your hand a few times, you pull her up to your face to give her a slow burning kiss. She returns it gratefully, one of her legs sliding between yours so her knee rubs against your center.

A moan escapes you and you roll your hips in reaction to the contact, and it hits you just how aroused all of this talk and foreplay has made you. Carmilla moves her lips from yours to begin a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your chest and stomach until she’s nestled between your thighs with your legs thrown over her shoulders.

The leash is pulled taught, and you give it a warning tug, wordlessly communicating that no teasing will be tolerated. She understands.

It starts slow, not to mess with you but to warm you up, and the knowing, skillful way her tongue runs along your entrance and around your clit makes your breath catch in your throat. You tug hard on the leash, and she gives you a muffled hum in response. She shifts below you, and the surprise of two fingers makes you tense up. But Carmilla knows your body well, and after a few gentle swirls of her tongue, you relax once more. Her movements are languid but methodical. Without expending much effort on her part, Carmilla has you bucking your hips and panting in response to everything she does.

You moan her name as you tangle your free hand in her hair and wrap the leash around your hand once more to give you more grip as Carmilla starts to speed up.

It gets harder and harder for you to take in breath as the heat in your core gets hotter. You try to twist your body to flip both of you over. You need more leverage and you can’t get that laying on your back. Carmilla gets the hint and helps you adjust to where your knees are on either side of her head. The leash presses tight against your thigh as you pull on it to ground yourself.

Finally in a more lucrative position, you grind down onto her, and you feel more than hear her soft laughter in response. A sharp tug of the leash cuts that off, and she resumes where she had left off.

“Good girl.” The words come out breathlessly so you aren’t sure if Carmilla heard you, but she moans into you and you can’t help but grin at that response.

You can feel yourself on the edge, and you lean forward onto your hands to get some weight off your knees. Carmilla’s hands slide up the back of your thighs to grip your ass and you pant her name.

It’s just her tongue now, but you swear you feel her on every inch of your body. The muscles in your legs tighten and you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it, that’s it. Carmilla. Carm please.” Your third call of her name is cut off by a moan as your climax overwhelms you. Your arms buckle and you settle on your elbows as you roll your hips in time with each pulse of pleasure runs through you.

When you can feel your legs again, you move yourself to lay down next to your girlfriend. She gives you a proud grin and a wink.

“So how did I do?”

“It was… adequite.” You struggle to keep your face indifferent, but she tickles your side and you giggle into a kiss. “You _really_ like when I say it, don’t you?” You ask as you trail your fingers up and down her sides.

“I can’t even begin to understand it, and I’m not particularly invested in trying to find out.” She kisses your jaw, and then your neck before nuzzling your shoulder.

“Sometimes I think you are actually a cat. Like, what you just did there is something cats do. You belong in that collar.”

Surprisingly she doesn’t have a comeback, and instead sits up and grabs the strap-on from where it had tumbled onto the floor.

“You have a promise to uphold.”

With a lighthearted eyeroll, you slip into the harness and tighten the straps.

Carmilla’s eyes flit down to the piece between your legs, a smile playing on her lips.

“Well aren’t you looking eager,” You tease.

“What can I say?” She looks up at you with wide eyes full of faux-innocence. “I’ve been an awfully good girl lately, haven’t I?”

Your jaw drops slightly as you do a few last adjustments to the toy settled on your hips.

“On your knees,” You tell her, your voice low. She’s more than happy to obey, and as you position yourself behind her, you hear her hum softly.

“How wet are you?” You whisper as you slide a hand down her back and push her down onto her elbows. You reach around to grab the leash, and pulling it towards you turns the collar.

“How about you find out for yourself?” She says back, spreading her knees and pushing back against you.

“Do I need to gag you again?” You grumble and give her a warning slap to the ass.

“No, ma’am.”

You laugh quietly to yourself as you gently rub the faint red mark your light spank left before slipping your hand between her legs and running two fingers between her folds.

“Then be good and don’t sass me until I’m done with you.”

“Oh, so after you’re done I can-” Carmilla’s words cut off when she sees you raise your hand from the corner of her eye. You wrap the leash around your hand once more so that it’s pulled taught without you having to pull back all that much, and with your other hand, you position the tip of the dildo at her entrance.

Carmilla’s breath hitches, and you push your hips towards hers just a little before pulling back out.

“I don’t need adjusting, just…” Carmilla bows her head. “Just _fuck_ me, Laura.”

You click your tongue and push in a little more this time, but not by much. “And why should I do what you say?”

“I’ve been good. I’ve done everything you said.” There’s just a hint of desperation in her voice, and you love that you’re the only person in the world who gets to hear this part of her.

You give her a contemplative hum as you push in even more this time. Still not as much as Carmilla wants, but this is your show now, and you have a plan to stick to. “We’ll see how good you are.”

“Wha-” Again you cut her off, this time your hips thrusted forward to be flush with hers, and she lets out a quiet “oh.”

You roll your hips slowly before pulling back almost completely and slamming back into her. A yank on the leash helps balance you, and her moan gets choked off. She coughs a bit, and you immediately give her a bit of slack. “Crap! Are you okay?”

Carmilla nods frantically. “Please don’t stop. I didn’t say the safeword. Keep going.”

You take a deep breath and fall back into your dominant mindset. Tightening your hold on the leash once more, you thrust into her. She moans loudly, and you lick your lips before pushing her front half down into the mattress. You start to gyrate your hips, finally satisfied with the position.

“Pull harder.” You hear her huff, but you aren’t sure you hear her right.

“What?” You lean forward so you can at least make eye contact with her.

“Pull. Harder. On. The leash.”

“O-okay.” You steady your breath and shake away your reservations. She keeps knocking you out of your zone. You just need to get into it and stay in it.

Twisting your wrist to wrap the leather around your palm yet another time, you readjust your hips and push into her again, this time doing as she asked.

You hear her sigh a “yes” as you roll your hips and maintain the pressure on her collar. She taps the mattress a few times, and you lighten up your hold, and she nods.

“That’ll be my sign to loosen up, okay?” She whispers, her voice cracking a bit.

The motion of your hips stutters a bit. You weren’t expecting to have to take on this new thing at the same time as a _different_ new thing, but it’s happened and Carmilla is obviously enjoying it. So you continue.

Finally, the two of you establish a good rhythm, and Carmilla’s hoarse moans are proof that she’s completely enjoying herself. And you can’t deny that there’s something fun about how _different_ all of this is, and how much more potential there is with everything you’ve discovered today.

Picking up your pace, you continue to roll your hips, and occasionally give her a harder tug on the leash. It doesn’t take you long to pick up on her limit, and you no longer need her sign to know when to let her breathe.

“Something… something’s missing,” Carmilla whispers.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, reaching down to sweep stray hair away from her face. The tender motion is almost funny juxtaposed to the fact that you have a leash and collar around her.

“I can feel myself getting close but-” She takes a shuddering breath. “Something’s missing.”

You thread your fingers through her hair and give it a gentle tug in time with a solid push of your hips. “Like that?”

She moans and smiles. “Not quite, but that’s nice too.”

It clicks in your mind what she’s looking for, but you’re not sure how to integrate it without sounding forced or awkward. Then you have another idea.

You switch from short, quick thrusts to harder ones. Harder than you’ve gone before.

“Moan for me, Carmilla.” You demand her, and she listens, but you make sure to cut it short with a yank on the leash.

“I didn’t hear you. I said moan for me. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

She tries to moan again, but just like before, you silence her.

“Louder.” You practically grunt in time with another roll of your hips.

And oh does she go louder. Probably anticipating another brief choke that doesn’t come. The sound is raw and unashamed, and it sets your soul alight.

“That’s it, Carmilla.” You murmur as you continue to pound into her, building up to what you say next.

“Good girl.”

Carmilla lets out a gasp of a moan, and slams her hips back into yours. You feel wetness run down your legs, and you let out a gasp of your own. Did she just…?

You slow your hips down as you feel her thighs tremble against you, and you can tell she’s getting too weak to hold herself up. Pulling out slowly and letting go of the leash, you let her fall to her side with a massive sigh.

She looks up at you, her eyes clouded and a dreamy smile on her lips. You laugh softly and look down at the bed to confirm your suspicions. A small wet spot shows on the sheets, and you cover your mouth with your hand to keep from laughing too hard.

“What’s so funny?” Carmilla asks.

“Looks like you made a little mess.”

Carmilla’s cheeks turn bright red, redder than you’ve ever seen her blush in your entire time knowing her. “Oh my god that never happens.”

“Guess it only happens to the best behaved girlfriends.”

She cranes her neck to look down at the offending mark, but winces in pain.

“Carm?” The taunting is out of your voice as your hands fly to the collar. “Damnit, you’re probably bruised let me take this off of you-”

She’s already one step ahead of you, and has it unbuckled before you can get to it, so you gently pull the leather away.

Across Carmilla’s windpipe and around the sides of her neck is a band of dark red and splotchy purple.

“Oh god…” you groan, gingerly running your fingers along the bruised flesh.

“That means you did well." Carmilla gives your thigh a pat before rolling over and closing her eyes. "Good girl."

You roll your eyes, not as affected by those words as she is, and immediately reach for your phone to look up aftercare routines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr @ carmunism.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> request your kink/prompt/idea @ carmunism.tumblr.com


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